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As much as I love being a father to my four year old...Jesus H. Christ he can be a handful. The worst part is since he's my first and only I have no idea how over the top four year olds are supposed to be. Are they supposed to go 120 miles per minute for 26 hours a day? Do they normally threaten kids physically when the parents aren't around? Are they generally little shits on regular basis?
Look, I get it. Kids are part asshole by nature. They're too selfish not to be, but got DAMN. Everyday? All day?

Okay, I take that back. That's just the frayed emotions in me typing away while I sip on this port wine. He's really the coolest kid on the block. Granted I don't know any other kid on our block, but he's at least the coolest kid in our house. He's like the Sweet N' Sour Bear commercials. One moment he won't calm the hell down, and could care less about any of the extremely clear direct instructions coming his way. And the next moment he's walking over with his arms extended wide softly saying, "Daddy, I love you. Can I give you a hug?"

It's too damn cute. And I know good and well I'm being played for a fool. But look at his face:

My love for this guy will kill me eventually

But day after day of the rollercoaster has me tired. And the truth is I feel terrible about it. I feel terrible I can't figure out what has him acting up in school. I feel terrible I can't get him to behave of his own free will. I feel terrible my reservoir of patience isn't deeper.

And more than that - I'm tired. And scared. Scared I won't be able to figure this out before it's too late for my son.

I don't wanna raise a shitty human. Especially when he brings so much joy to life. I guess it's impossible to have greatness without sacrifice.

All I can do is commit to bringing my best self and effort to the table tomorrow - and the day after that.